Chapter Two: Highest of Branches

DISCLAIMER: I never have and never will own the wonderfully created worlds of Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. They're just too complicated to be mine.

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Harry spread his fingers flat on the ground and gazed up into the spring green canopy. Maybe it was just the atmosphere of the bright, bubbly clearing he had landed in, but everything felt newer. On Earth, he felt, with every breath, the weight of every soul lost to the war like a great hand pressing him to the ground. Even after Voldemort's defeat, the world hadn't regained its color and liveliness for him. But here… the magic was so light, and the forest around him was bursting with such joyous life that he couldn't help feeling that he might float away.

He reached a small tendril of magic into the black earth cradling him, like a seedling's first root. He knew Earth's ambient magic like the back of his hand, especially after communing with it during the ritual. Harry figured he might as well get an idea of this world's character by making first contact with the energy resting beneath him… ah, Harry thought triumphantly, there. It had noticed him. Curious, lively, high-spirited– Harry started. He had expected something like the massive weight of Earth's presence, but this being was young. Very young. It– chirped, almost?– and welcomed him with delight. Harry, bemused, returned the greeting and pulled back. It let him go with reluctance.

He blinked. That was probably the happiest anyone had ever been to see him. It was almost like it had been expecting him. Strange.

Well, he had learned something, but really he had more questions than before. This world was very new, and almost innocent. None of the scars made by Muggles and perverted magic existed here, like they had on Earth. Maybe this world didn't have any sentient beings? Harry frowned. No, the earth magic had not been surprised or confused by their communication. It must have communed with someone before. Just how different were the beings here from the ones on Earth? Were the people here magically powerful, or only vaguely aware that a powerful, rolling magic existed beneath their feet and in the air? Had he dropped himself into a benevolent or violent world?

Harry sighed and decided that it would be best to stay in the forest for the time being. At least here he could recover and gain his bearings in peace. He pushed his aching body off of the ground and ambled over to a small pond.

Silver figures (whether fish or some rare creature, he didn't know) swirled and danced in the deeper end of the crystal pool, and softly whistling ferns arched over the water lazily. The unmarred purity of this world was expressed everywhere, down to the clarity of the water and the healthy green of the undergrowth.

Harry spent the rest of the day in that clearing. The quiet was peaceful, and the forest reminded him of some of the tamer parts of the Forbidden Forest. As his enjoyment of the peace grew, so too did his resolve to protect it. It had been so long since something had managed to quiet his roaring demons. Anything capable of it would enjoy his vehement protection.

Sometime in late afternoon, as Harry dozed lightly in a patch of gentle sun, he became aware of a presence watching him from just beyond the first trees. He tried to ignore it, sensing no ill intent, only curiosity.

But as the light began to fade, and the shadows lengthened, the force grew closer, and Harry's senses tingled in warning. Quickly snapping his wrist, a small blue flame grew to life and settled in his palm. Seeing the fire flicker brought rushing, painful memories of Hermione, of inseparable friendships, of fun and light and laughter…

Blinking back his sudden tears and trying, desperately, to recall the peace of mind that had filled his afternoon –I won't allow you to rule me, I won't– Harry called out hoarsely, "Who's there?"

A long, slow voice spoke back, his words almost drawn out too much for Harry to understand them: "You must be Istari, Young One. But not the same, no… You are not student of a Valar… You are no apprentice, ah, so young to be so strong, so broken, so loved, so alone… An Istari without guidance is a dangerous force…" The voice continued to muse to itself, speaking of someone called Radagast and someone named Gandalf, but Harry wasn't really listening. Something else had caught his attention, jolting him from his tense stance.

The speaker… was a tree?

As the strange being moved further into Harry's (who found himself stepping back) clearing, he realized that it was no tree, but just very tree-like. The creature was huge, at least fourteen feet tall, with strange, bark-like skin. He looked similar to the trolls Harry had seen occasionally back in the Wizarding World, but much slimmer and more intelligent. His long, powerful arms moved and were fashioned in a way that closely reminded Harry of the strong branches of the Whomping Willow, but the creature's limbs were more humanoid. The tree trunk-like torso split dually to form legs, which split further into many roots in a mockery of toes. From the tough, gnarled face, deep-set eyes watched him closely.

"What are you?" Harry breathed, then winced. If the creatures of the Wizarding World had taught him anything, it was that referring to them as a "what" instead of a "who" was a pretty decent way to make powerful enemies.

But the tree-like entity only stopped and peered down him. It appeared to be analyzing him, and simply stood for many minutes, seemingly contemplating an answer. Just as Harry had started shuffling his feet and wondering if he had offended him after all, he spoke: "I am the oldest Ent, and my name is Treebeard. We are among the Eldest races, akin to the elves… They were our teachers in language, of our education of Man and His ways, of new things and the coming of our Warrior… but you, Young Lord, are not elf, nor dwarf, not Istari, but made from Magic, yes, the same as the ground and the air and the water and the sun and the dancing flame that now sits upon your palm…"

"I am a Wizard," Harry stated, curiosity aroused, "Is that what you're talking about?" He ignored the fact that he hadn't the foggiest what an Ent was, and he forced the image of Dobby giving grammar lessons out of his mind. He did, however, pocket the brief mention of these Elves having possible prophetic powers. Perhaps they were the ones who had taught the earth magic to commune with mortals.

The Ent, Treebeard, stared at him again for a while. "I suppose. But your magic has changed, my Lord, like my brethren in the Autumn, like the clouds and sun shift, like the small chick to the soaring eagle. Yes, your magic– your life force, the blood that runs through your veins– has changed along with your world. You are now Highest of Branches, King of Kings and Lord of Life. All the creations of Illúvatar shall acknowledge your power, and the Children of Yavanna will bow before you… As the Eldest Ent, it is my responsibility I bestow upon you your power and grace and all that can aid you during your leadership. Welcome to Middle-Earth, to Arda, and to Fangorn Forest, my Lord." Treebeard gave a low, creaking bow, but Harry was too dazed by the myriad of questions that little speech had blindsided him with. Apparently, this tree-man had just christened him the Lord of this– this Fangorn Forest, and also claimed that his magic had changed character?

I suppose, Harry grumbled internally, that this is why we research unknown earth magic rituals thoroughly before shoving our entire magical cores into them.

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3/12 Edit: It was my birthday yesterday, so I was out of town. Sorry for the delay! There might be a bit more of a slight delay in new chapters because I have finals next week. I picked a rather bad time to come back, didn't I?

-Welwitschia